The Gift of the Magi
by ladyamalphia
Summary: Just in time for Christmas, my Sonic version of O. Henry's classic story starring Knuckles and Rouge as Jim and Della.


**A/N:**Here's one of the Christmas stories I'm planning on writing this holiday :D! And before anyone goes all "U COPYD THAT 1 STORY! WTF!"… sorry… before anyone does that, remember that this is just an adaptation of the original "The Gift of the Magi". If you want to see the original, there's a link at the bottom of the page. And just incase don't get to writing the others I have in mind, MERRY CHRISTMAS :D!!!

--LA

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Oh my god the person who wrote the original version of this story was names O.Henry. XD!. That's amazing B-)! The idea belongs to him… is he alive still 0.o? And also, the last paragraph was like directly copied from his story because I thought it kind of carried the essence. I hope no one minds that. Thanks, Mr. O. Henry, and tell Mr. Kitkat I said hi XD! Teehee… :3 I am _so_mature!

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The tissue tumbled off of the towering mountain of its preceding sniffle-ees. The maker of the heap of tissues sat crumpled on an ugly, faded brown-green couch. Her teal eyes were red and puffy from nearly an hour of crying her heart out. Several dozen dull coins sat on the table before her, sorted into little piles based on their value. They had been counted and counted again over that day. Whenever she walked past the table, a tiny flicker of optimistic hope made it felt necessary that she check that she had properly counted the infinitesimal amount: One dollar and eighty-seven cents. One dollar and eighty-seven cents in her possession, and the next day was Christmas.

She resorted, for the umpteenth time that day, to woeful, shuddering sobs. Every object in the tiny, cramped apartment seemed to be mocking poor Rouge. Of course, she had just enough to scrape by. Only just. But the meek change on the table, which she had saved up for months for this very occasion, was laughing in her face. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. No respectful gift could be purchased for so near to nothing. She knew, naturally, that wonderful Knuckles would not care whether or not she bought him a proper gift, but she wanted so deeply to, for once, purchase something he would truly adore. Something to show him how deeply in love with him she was (although she was certain that he already knew that.)

As was her custom for cheering herself up on her gloomiest days, the white bat pulled her most prized possession from her patched pocket; a tiny, glittering sapphire of deep azure blue. Though it was only a centimetre in diameter, the dull overhead light caught it with amazing brilliance, making it sparkle like a chip from fallen star. Sniffling softly, Rouge stroked it tenderly with a finger.

The idea came to her before her mind could compute it. She got to her feet suddenly, tossing another tissue onto the tower. Then, it came to her exactly what she was thinking. But how could she… To sell her most treasured possession, a long cherished gift from her late mother. It occurred to her, however, exactly how much she adored him. It was a savoury, lurching, euphoric emotion from the base of her sternum which sent warm shudders throughout her body at the thought of his plum eyes. At that moment, she knew that there was nothing else that she could do.

* * *

The spiteful December wind blew with cruel force, almost knocking the frail echidna off of his feet. There had been no money lunch or breakfast in his aching stomach for a week. And still, despite milking every penny dry, he had only a pocketful of jingling change as a result. Trying to shelter his face from the blistering wind, he buried it into his thin, patched jacket. Fingering the coins around in a pocketed hand, his grasp fell upon a little golden wristwatch, whose chain had been lost years in the past. He tightened his grip on it, which always felt strangely comforting. Perhaps it had to do with his secret stashed inside of it. A tiny, tarnished, yellowing photo of the ivory-furred bat. How he worshiped her… and yet not even a feeble gift could be afforded for the woman who deserved to be treated like a princess.

Feeling bitterly incapable, he returned to rattling the coins with shivering hands. The cold seeped to the bone through his thin clothes and fur like hundreds of thirsty leeches. Trying to take his mind from him and his partner's sorry financial situation, he took to passively reading the many signs and billboards which graffitied the city. Suddenly, he froze mid step. A rather subtle little shop sandwiched between two towering buildings caught Knuckles' eye.

"We'll buy what you want to sell!" it said in delicate little cursive letters. The non-obnoxious print was surprising, considering the usual desperate, bold, bright writing shops usually chose to use in their advertisements. Knuckles' hand shot back to his full pocket and closed around the little, ticking clock.

* * *

"Well, it's real." The saleswoman informed Rouge, a large magnifying glass pressed up to one eye. Rouge tried to smile, but the gesture only turned into a sort of teary grimace. "But there's a great deal of unwanted cleavage here, here and here." 

"How much?" The bat breathed, wanting the whole thing to be over as quickly as possible.

"I'd say…" the saleswoman muttered thoughtfully, prodding at the tiny gem with her huge optical mechanism, "about one fifty."

"Fine." Rouge breathed, blinking tears from her eyes. Marching to the cash register, the saleswoman handed Rouge two crisp paper bills, and returned to the back of the shop. Was it worth it? Giving up such a treasured possession. Yes, she knew, it was. Rouge adored him. Passionately. They were meant to be together, and this sacrifice only sealed the deal. After all, what were material possessions compared to the beautiful love they shared. She realized that she had never before held such a large amount of money in her hands at one time. How insubstantial these thin pieces of paper were… they represented so much. Not only in money value, but in sacrifices.

Tears stained tiny round spots onto one of the bills. Rouge found herself greatly resenting the money in her hands, wanting strongly to rid herself of it. She jogged down the chilly street, until she arrived at her destination; a small watch shop several blocks away from the jewellery store where she had sold the sapphire.

As she opened the door, a bell tinkled above Rouge's head, informing the watchmaker of her arrival in the store.

"Good afternoon." He said pleasantly, stepping around the counter to greet her.

"Hi." She said, cutting straight to the chase. "Could I get a watch chain?"

"Of course. Right this way, ma'am."

* * *

For the sixth time, Knuckles entered the little shop, only to turn a circle on his heel and march back out. Met once again by the bitter wind, he closed his burning eyes. Was this even going anywhere? He sighed. What was it he valued so much about the little pocket watch anyways? The answer was painfully obvious; the tiny secret treasure which it homed. He knew then that it had to be done. And he knew exactly what gift to buy for his love… the perfect thing which would leave her speechless. 

"And," he muttered, his words rising into the air in steamy clouds, "the only way to see that is with money."

His mind now set, he marched back into the shop to greet an exasperated looking salesman.

"Actually coming in this time?" He inquired with a chuckle.

"Yeah." Knuckles said, laughing a bit more than the little joke deserved. For some reason, he was feeling extremely light hearted and giddy.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to sell this." In his pocket, he carefully opened the watch and removed the little tattered photo. The watch, now empty for the first time in months, continued to tick faithfully, unknowing that it was about to be parted with its twenty year master. He was surprised how easy it was to hand over his most treasured item. After several minutes of careful bargaining, he departed the shop with a crisp, hundred dollar bill clutched carefully in his fist. He had had no idea that the little clock was worth so much. It felt strange to think that for all of those years of squalor, he had been carrying something worth so much everywhere with him. Walking home, he rubbed the yellowing photo of Rouge between his fingers. As long as he had her, he knew, no gain or loss of possessions could sadden him.

* * *

Rouge proudly lit the tall, scented candle set on the table. She inhaled deeply, letting the savoury scent of roasting chops wafting in from the tiny, newly cleaned kitchen corner of the flat intoxicate her senses. Suddenly, she heard the door open from across the flat. Knuckles was home from his strenuous, underpaid work day at the mill. A little brown parcel was clutched in his hand, but Rouge thought nothing of it as he placed it on the book shelf. She sprinted across the room and jumped into his arms, planting a kiss on his cold lips. 

"It smells amazing." He said, placing her feet gently onto the ground again. She beamed up at him, pulling him by his hands back to the table.

"Oh, Rouge" He breathed, staring at the neatly set, candlelit table with wide eyes.

"Did you do all of this?"

"Well," Rouge replied, trying to keep her voice modest though pride was welling inside of her, "Tomorrow _is _Christmas."

"It looks amazing." He said, drawing her in and kissing her forehead.

"Thank you." She replied softly, hanging in his arms for another moment. "Oh, I just can't wait for tomorrow! Can't you open your gift now?"

"Gift?" He laughed "Oh, Rouge, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know." She answered gently, tugging him by his arm towards the tattered couch. "I wanted to."

She tossed him down, jogging over to the bed and procured it from beneath the mattress. While her back was turned, Knuckles snuck back to his feet and tiptoed over to the bookshelf, placing the little brown package containing his gift into his pocket. He slunk back to the same position on the sofa just in time for the whole operation to go unseen by Rouge. A huge beam on her face, she returned to her seat beside him so that their legs just brushed each other. She opened her mouth to speak, and pushed the little brown box towards him, but he placed a silencing finger on her lips.

"Me first."

Rouge looked astonished and amazed.

"Knuckles! You didn't have to!"

"I know." He answered, mimicking the soft tone she had used earlier. "I wanted to."

Rouge smiled at him and gingerly took the little brown paper parcel from his outstretched hand. Rather than tearing the paper, she carefully removed the tape and paper, placing them at her side. Knuckles waited anxiously for a moment to see the look on Rouge's face. When she finally pulled away the last layer of paper, she let out a gasp. From out of the parcel, she lifted a little golden ring, ready to be set with a certain jewel. To Knuckles' bemused surprise, however Rouge's expression was not one of delight and gratefulness, but of sadness. She smiled tearfully at him.

"Knuckles, it's so wonderful." She whispered, sliding closer to him on the couch. "but I sold my sapphire to get your gift. I'm so sorry."

Knuckles gazed blankly at her for a moment, then smiled.

"It doesn't matter. Shall I open mine?"

Rouge nodded as Knuckles wiped a tear from her white fur. He carefully opened the little white box and closed his eyes when they fell upon the sparkling, golden chain. He slouched back onto the couch, his hands clasped behind his head.

"What's wrong?" She asked in surprise. "Don't you like it? Come on, get your watch, we'll see how it looks."

Knuckles laughed with a bit of bitterness in his voice.

"It's perfect. But I sold my watch to pay for the gold band."

Rouge smiled and took both of her hands in his.

"You know what?" He asked her, staring straight into her teal eyes "it doesn't matter. Let's go have supper, shall we?"

Rouge smiled at him, and squeezed his hands lovingly.

'_The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.'_

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**A/N:**There we go :D! I don't adore this one either :\... If anyone's curious, I chose Rouge and Knux because Rouge and her jewels were so easy :P I just used the original idea of the watch for Knuckles, because I couldn't really think of anything else for him. I'm not sure if I did the original story justice… but I tried my best ;)! Thanks for reading :D! Please review… Merry Christmas :)! And here's the original story: w w w . auburn . edu / vestmon / GiftoftheMagi . html 

That should show up, right?

--LA


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